April 2016

“again! do it again!” chanted the children. the old man shook his head in a slow sort of way and undid the plait he had made with his long white beard. he started riffling through the silvery strands with busy gnarled fingers, as if looking for something. he stopped all of a sudden. the children gasped and gathered closer together, staring intently. the old man peered at a point in his beard and with a bellowing, “tobey re beta!” which…

Once upon a time, on a beautiful morning, when the birds and bees were heralding the arrival of spring, I found myself alone; in a place, that was my home. It wasn’t long before I realised, I knew a warm and handsome guy who was in the mood for an adventure. He is a curious, loyal and dauntless sort of a fellow. A perfect companion when setting out for an adventure. So, we stepped out from the confines of the castle.…

again a clamour for its return starts. and now i am older, even if not wiser, and i must see it’s not as simple as it looks. or looked, when i was eight and nine and ten, even twelve and thirteen and was told an uncomplicated, straightforward thing: the koh-i-noor diamond is the most beautiful diamond in the world and it belongs to us… first nadir shah stole it and then the british. for some reason quite unfathomable, but then…

Is the glass half full or is it half empty? From person to person, the answer will vary Just so is life and your life’s story Either it’s very sad or full of glory Moments are those that glorify your life Happy or sad or the ones filled with strife Never does one stay for more than a given time It’s a cycle that repeats all your life time. Feel blessed for the good and prepare for the bad Accept…

i wasn’t giddy with joy at the thought of walking in little india. long before i’d even stepped into singapore i’d heard of the wondrous mustafa of course. if you’re indian and you go to singapore, then you must shop there, it’s in a place called little india. i’d made a resolution back then not to go anywhere near mustafa unless absolutely necessary. came here, got a job, found out both my chinese bosses loved mustafa. “how can?” is all…

Lord of The Flies, by William Golding, forces you to look around and question everything you thought true to human nature. Perhaps, you will not agree to what William Golding shows us. Probably, you will vehemently disagree, but, it is likely that you will surrender to the possibility. The tale revolves around a group of young boys who are stranded on a deserted island during the World War. The boys are barely hitting their teens, some way younger. Alone on…

khushi wondered why the green looked hazy, out of focus. something warm and wet touched her cheek, her vision cleared. it was a tear she realised. that choking sensation near her throat was still there. khushi shook her head not quite conscious of what she was doing… her breathing was getting irregular again. how would she make arnav ji understand? it wasn’t safe here, anything could happen. as the words filtered through, a darkness seized some corner without name, a…

Catherine Coulter’s, The Lost Key, started off full of promise. Though, it is the 2nd book in the series of A Brit in the FBI, the writing makes it easy to follow. The story felt like a cross between Dan Brown meets some of the earlier fast paced Jeffery Archer books. Then, somewhere after 60% of the story, the book became a series of far fetched coincidences and predictable outcomes. Maybe, I should back up a bit… Many many years ago, in the hidden…

I was 25 back in the day, when my parents, like any other Indian parents, were ready to get me married. So began the search for Mr. Right! And before we knew, enters ‘Our Hero’- young, dynamic, super fun to be with, well behaved with adults, the kind of guy who makes you weak in the knees and without any second thoughts, we were tied in holy matrimony! Oh wait I forgot to mention, our hero is a Class…

kanumoni held the end of the chadar and with deft, quick fingers twisted the material. in an instant, a series of three triangular folds fell across the edge of the fine white cotton with motifs in black and red, the tassels bobbed playfully. she tucked the point she was holding from where the pleats started, into khushi’s petticoat, over the mekhela. then she leaned closer to take the rest of the chadar around khushi, letting the other end fall over…